


Stepping Sideways

by SomebodyIUsetoKnow



Series: Fourteen Million Six Hundred and Six [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Captain America is a jerk, Comic Book Science, I Don't Even Know, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker is a Puppy, Wanda is a terrorist, change my mind..., could be read as pre-slash, i need a beta reader cuz i suck, not team Cap friendly, tiny bit of flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:00:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomebodyIUsetoKnow/pseuds/SomebodyIUsetoKnow
Summary: "...go back...too soon...almost...nearly there...There it is."After fourteen million six hundred and five futures, he realizes his mistake.He has only ever gone forward, never back.
Series: Fourteen Million Six Hundred and Six [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1865689
Comments: 10
Kudos: 209





	Stepping Sideways

* * *

Stephen Strange has seen _fourteen million six hundred and four_ too many futures where they lost because Tony Stark died. Too many where their greatest hope perishes before they can stop Thanos. In the _one_ future where he survives long enough to end the Mad Titan Tony Stark’s life is still forfeit.

After _fourteen million six hundred and five_ lifetimes, it is a sacrifice the Sorcerer Supreme refuses to make.

The terror on Stark’s face when they meet gazes on Titan when he tells him how many is second only to the terror Stephen feels when Iron Man is impaled with his own weapon. The blood on the other man’s lips, the wet gasps for air that has the Doctor in him all but panicking, after seeing this exact moment one million thee hundred eighty-one thousand seven hundred and thirty-two times, something inside him shatters.

He can not see it again.

Lying battered and bleeding on the orange sands of a destroyed world he stops everything. He needs Time to think; time readily given by the power of the stone against his breast he has mastered over _fourteen million six hundred and five_ futures.

And after _fourteen million six hundred and five_ futures, he realizes his mistake.

He has only ever gone forward, never back.

So, he throws his mind back as he had ahead.

It does not take _fourteen million six hundred and five_.

The first: Tony is a child of seven, his little body bound and alone. Men walking away in anger as the blood pours from Anthony Stark’s throat. A child cursing a father who will never care enough – even about his own image – to pay the ransom demanded by men cruel enough to murder a child.

_… go back..._

The second time: Tony is sixteen, far from home and alone. A would-be best friend distracted by a pretty girl and unable to stop the drug in the teens drink that sends him spiralling into the hands of a man that would steal the last of his innocence as swiftly as he steals Anthony Stark’s last breath with his bare hands.

_… too soon..._

The third time: Tony is thirty-eight, even father from home and alone. He is unconscious, unaware of the man attempting to piece his heart back together. Attempting and failing and what remains of Anthony Stark is left in the furthest corner of the caves and forgotten.

_… almost…_

The fourth time: Tony is forty-two, surrounded by millions and still alone. He is besieged by silence and dark as he sees the future and what is to come. The way home closes behind him. He shuts his eyes for the last time and Anthony Stark is lost adrift in the infinite nothing.

_… nearly there…_

The fifth time: Tony is forty-five, beset upon by betrayal and indifference, and wholly alone. Those he once thought to call friends have abandoned him. His body as broken and useless as the armor he wears. Even as he wishes otherwise, Anthony Stark knows he will endure. He has to. But he has nothing left to give, nothing left to lose, and he knows to his very core that he will not survive the Endgame.

This is it.

The moment their future is set in stone.

Their Greatest Hope – forged and tempered to be the strongest of them all – lies shattered as he is left behind and forgotten. Those who will eternally stand beside him are powerless in the face of what is coming, and he will be unable to rise against Thanos and his gauntlet. The one future where they lose millions over trillions is a Cadmean victory and Stephan will not allow it. 

Not now that he knows.

He steps sideways, away from the cold and ice… toward cold and ice?

For an instant (eternity) he is thrown by the parallels of events he had not know existed. At the exact moment, two men are alone, overwhelmed by their pain and blood, surrounded by the cold and black of certain death. Succumbing to their despair as they realize that should they survive they will never be whole. Never be right. Never be. So why survive? Yet only one gives in and beckons death forward.

He had never known they were connected; never knew that their lives were intersected in more ways than that moment on a New York Street as they stood against the children of Thanos.

Looking at the years leading up to this instant he saw the numerous times they had crossed paths only to be turned aside the second before they would have met. The more notable immediately following the Battle of New York where he was treating the hundreds of wounded and Tony arrived with supplies and fresh doctors just as Stephen was wheeling a critical patient into surgery.

(Stephen remembered that moment from his original timeline. He had glanced up to see the commotion as the nurses and orderlies prepped the patient for transfer from the ER to a surgical suite. Dozens of men and women had poured into the ER, each one displaying credentials from across the state and a few from outside. And there had been Tony. Bruised and bleeding and guiding the numerous pallets of medical equipment and supplies as easy as directing traffic. Tony had even arranged food and coffee for those staff members that refused to pull out despite the relief workers. He recalled tugging Christine aside as he passed her, pointing out that Stark had needed medical attention. She had shaken her head, telling him that this was apparently the fourth hospital Stark had visited with personnel and supplies and refusing to allow anyone to treat him in the face of so many injured civilians. Regrettably, he had spared no further thought for the billionaire and hurried off to surgery.)

There had been more after that. Galas and benefits and parties. And seeing them now he could see them for what they were.

Chances.

In _fourteen million six hundred and five_ futures, he had never met Tony Stark prior to that morning standing side by side against Thanos’ children.

And in _fourteen million six hundred and five_ futures he was incapable of saving the greatest of them all.

“You are breaking the natural order.”

The voice is one he has heard infinite times in millions of lifetimes. The voice is of a teacher, a mentor, a friend. She is as he remembers her even as she looks at him as an enemy.

“I have broken nothing.” He corrects as he stands on the precipice of choice.

“Not yet.”

“My presence here is in itself part of the natural order else I would not be here.”

“Your presence here will change everything.”

“Which is entirely the point.”

“I cannot see what is to come, not yet, not until you choose.”

“I have seen what is to come. It is the complete and utter annihilation of everything, and entire worlds lost to the ashes of what you would call the natural order.”

“And this is the moment that will change all?”

“It is the chance.”

“Why _now_? Why not _then_?”

“He was untested, blind to those who will betray and break him beyond all hope. Now his eyes open, and the rot is finally exposed. The stone has not been set; the die has not been cast.”

“Why you?”

“Because I have seen endless worlds without him and will not bare another.”

“ _You_ will die if you stay.”

“On this path, I will die if I don’t. I breathe my last as his hope fades. Knowing what I know, I need but a moment more to create a new path.”

“All that you know will be for naught.”

“And we will all be the better for it.”

She is silent as she weighs his words. “Then choose.”

_Fourteen million six hundred and six._

.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..

_We will be waiting._

Breaks screaming in the dark, Dr. Stephen Strange pulled the wheel of his car harshly to the right. The front of the Lamborghini barely missed the back end of the vehicle he had been passing, the passenger side of his car striking against rock and trees and spinning him around. The driver’s side impacts the barrier above the cliff-face but does not go over. Seconds after hitting the breaks, he comes to a complete stop. 

_Fourteen million six hundred and six._

Panting for breath, his fingers clutching the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, he stares ahead as several vehicles stop around his. He stares at a ring he had never worn before and he remembers.

He remembers _fourteen million six hundred and six_.

Exiting the car on shaking legs, he ignores those inquiring to his health. He ignores those angry and frightened and yelling at him for his sheer stupidity. He steps aside from all else and without a second’s hesitation he opens the gateway with practiced ease. The blast of cold air greets him with greedy fingers as he steps through and closes the portal behind him.

Polished dress shoes slip on the icy concrete, but he does not falter in his hurried steps to the armoured figure crumpled only feet away. The tuxedo he wears is nowhere near enough to ward off the growing cold, but they will not be there long. He slides to his knees next to the semi-conscious Iron Man.

“Mr. Stark.” He keeps his voice low, calm, his fingers pressing lightly against the exposed pulse-point on Tony’s neck. He carefully eases the man from his back onto his side, relieving the strain of the concaved chest piece against Tony’s artificial sternum. He remembers _seven hundred fifteen thousand two hundred and twelve_ Tonys telling him the aftermath of Siberia. Remembers hearing of the hours Tony lay there alone in the cold and dark and drowning in his own blood until the second suit FRIDAY had sent arrived along with Vision. Remembers knowing how the two-thousand-mile flight to Dr. Cho’s clinic in Seoul only exacerbated Tony’s injuries to a near fatal condition where he had to be resuscitated four times on the operating table. Stephen will not allow it. “I’m here to help you.”

With a sputtered breath, bright red froth flecking his lips, Tony opens his eyes and looks up at Stephen with grim resignation. “‘The curtains flew then he appeared, saying don't be afraid.’”

“ _Don’t Fear the Reaper_ , Blue Oyster Club, 1976.” An amused grin tugs at the corner of Stephen’s lips. “I can appreciate the sentiment, but I am not the Grim Reaper. At least not for you.” He can’t say the same about Steve Rogers. 

With one hand remaining in place on Tony’s neck, giving the man the physical touch Stephen knows he craves, he opens a Portal with his fee hand. Glancing through it he can see Ancient One and Master Drumm awaiting in a surgical suite at Metropolitan General Hospital. Behind them he is thankful to see the stunned medical team with the equipment they would need to save Tony Stark’s life.

“Not quite… the pearly gates…” Tony coughs, more blood expelling onto the frozen floor, and Stephen is worried about Tony’s inability to catch his breath. “But no fire… and brimstone so… yeah… let’s… go with this…”

Drumm lifts his hands, easily taking control over the portal allowing Stephen to levitate Tony and the suit without a change in position. Tony’s eyes are closed again as he is guided through the portal which closes instantly behind Stephen when he walks through. Christine and a nurse are there with a gurney, rolling it beneath the floating Iron Man as Stephen lowers the man onto the mattress. He can see the myriad of questions in her eyes, but she wisely holds her tongue.

“We need the suit off to triage.” She told him succinctly.

Stephen is tearing off the bow tie and jacket, letting another nurse – Schwab he thinks her name is – take them from him as he stands across the gurney from Dr. Palmer. “Mr. Stark, can you hear me? We need to remove the armor to treat your injuries.”

“…the arc… broken…” He gasps wetly without opening his eyes.

“Then forgive me, Mr. Stark.” He pushes the sleeves of his dress shirt up makes a few hand gestures causing the damaged armor to split in several places and shift away from the body hidden beneath.

“… dinner first…”

Stephen runs an absent hand over the man’s dirty hair, smoothing it away from the bruises on Tony’s face. “Next time.”

He begins barking orders at the nurses and directs them as they carefully remove the Iron Man pieces. Off in a corner he is aware of his former mentor in another life and the Master of the New York Sanctum watching him intently, but wisely quietly. It takes several minutes to free Tony from the dead weight of the suit, but soon the inventor is hooked up to the monitors and several alarms begin to sound almost instantly.

“He’s hypoxemic,” Christine is grabbing for the oxygen mask and affixes it over Tony’s mouth and nose. “Oxygen levels sixty-four and dropping fast.”

“His chest has been crushed.” Stephen responds grimly, his hands steady as they expertly cut away the torn and bloody clothes from Tony’s torso.

Christine swears under her breath before turning to the awaiting nurses. “We’re going to need an ECG, X-rays, ultrasound-”

“He doesn’t have the time.” He takes a step back and makes several gestures above Tony’s body. A series of golden runes appear in the air over the wounded billionaire before sinking into the now exposed skin and Tony’s face relaxes completely into unconsciousness.

“Stephen-”

“Everyone in this room needs to trust me otherwise get the fuck out.” He snaps as his hands twist into more intricate movements and another set of characters appear before him. When no one moves he nods once and easily interprets the symbols for the others. “There are skull fractures to the left Maxilla and Zygomatic bone, microfractures in the mandible, but no intercranial bleeding or swelling, thank the Vishanti. There are several internal injuries in the abdominal cavity, as well as dozens of bruises and lacerations – some which already show signs of infection that will require intervention. But the most pressing matter is his artificial sternum. It has been shattered and the pieces have punctured both lungs – he is drowning on his own blood.”

With a casual wave of his hand he banishes the runes and moves toward the scrub room just outside the suite. Christine is right behind him as well as several of the nurses. The Ancient One and Master Drumm follow, and he joins them off to the side while the others prep for surgery.

“You have questions.” Stephen interrupts Master Drumm when the man opens his mouth to speak. “Questions I will answer in all honestly later. Right now, my only concern is that man’s life.”

“What you have done flies in the face of everything we have ever believed, Master Strange.” The Ancient One spoke with an air of respect that surprises both Stephen and Master Drumm if the other sorcerer’s expression were to go by. “And yet the tendrils of change already begin to branch out and I find myself in a most curious position. It has been many years since I have not seen what is to come.”

“Welcome to the mortal condition.” He snarks, though not unkindly. “I will ask that you return to the Sanctum; I will meet you both there in the morning once I am satisfied Mr. Stark will survive. Be aware, there are others that require the same answers and I will be bringing them with me.”

Drumm bristles at the decisive tone. “Now wait a damn minute-”

“Of course, Master Strange.” The Ancient One interrupts with an amused half-smile. “Tea shall be in order, I believe.”

.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..

“So, you’re from the future.”

It had taken hours to save a man’s life, to undo was what done to him in minutes. Yet Stephen’s hands are steady, strong, undamaged, and with Christine assisting him he was able to do what no other would have been able to do. Tony Stark will survive with his heart unscarred, a condition that would have shortened his life expectancy significantly had he survived past the confrontation with Thanos.

Now, even more hours later and with the sun well past its zenith, the Cloak of Levitation back around his collar, he walks away from the New York Sanctum. Down Sullivan Street toward Washington Square Park, with one of the most pivotal figures in the conflict to come. Stephen taps the eye of Agamotto that rests against his chest again, a familiar weight that he had never worn before. “No. The power of the Time Stone allowed another Stephen Strange to send his consciousness out of his reality and into this one; his mind, his memory, his experiences, overlapping my own an instant before an accident that would have cost me _my_ life. I, however, am still from this time. The effort would have cost him his timeline – his reality – just for the _chance_ to save ours. ”

Fifteen-year-old Peter Parker has his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie and worries his lower lips between his teeth. “So, an alternate timeline.” He concluded as they move unhindered through the pedestrian traffic. “Other Mr. Doctor couldn’t change his past to alter the future, but he could essential go sideways and basically give you the whole ‘insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results so damn well don’t do this’ warning.”

“In essence, yes.” Stephen smiles. The memories he has of Peter Parker vary from the different timelines, but like Stark he is a major player despite his youth. Peter is earnest and loyal to Tony like no one has ever been. That devotion and unwavering faith in Tony Stark – not Iron Man – is what led Tony in that single future to seek the impossible to bring the boy back after Thanos’ victory.

“And Other You had a plan?” Peter asks with a quick glance to Stephen. “One that would keep Mr. Stark alive and he wouldn’t get hurt again?”

The genuine worry and fear in the teens voice are heart wrenching and Stephen can understand why, in so many of the timelines, the countless heroes had rallied around Peter Parker. In several realities, Tony had related Peter to an over excited golden retriever puppy.

_“He’s all soft and fluffy, and loyal and unfailing in his belief of you, and all you want to do is cuddle him and protect him and keep him with you at all times. And then the second someone threatens you, he’s all fangs and snarls and fucking scary!”_

He has memories of Peter fighting Thanos on Titan. Memories of a seventeen-year-old kid going toe to toe with the biggest, baddest, scariest son-of-a-bitch in the universe and putting the purple bastard on his knees. Peter didn’t flinch, didn’t waver, got back up after every hit and nearly succeeded in taking the gauntlet from the Mad Titan.

And more often than not, he had died for it.

“Admittedly, the plan was rather limited.” Stephen confesses as they stop at the crosswalk and wait to proceed across. “You know what happened after Tony left you in Germany, saw the footage that his suit had recorded before it was too severely damaged. It’s my hope – and the hope of the other me – that the after effects of Rogers’ and the others’ betrayals can be countered by a true team. Real support, honest friendships, no games or manipulations or hidden agendas.”

Brown eyes not that dissimilar to Stark’s flash with righteous anger at the mention of the Exvengers. “The betrayal may have come to a head in Siberia, Doctor Strange, but it didn’t start there. While we travelled to Germany, he gave me access to FRIDAY and told me to do my own research. He could have left me in the dark, left me trusting whatever he told me, and I would have still fought for him. But he wanted me informed and he told me to make up my own mind and he would support whatever decision I made.”

Knowing what he knows now, it’s not all that surprising. However, not many would have expected something like that from Stark. The light changes and the pair cross Washington Square South and onto the paths through the park. They walk quietly for a few minutes, the afternoon spring air warm around them. “And what did you learn that had you standing beside him against a man like Steve Rogers?”

“Mr. Stark didn’t create the Accords, he just understood what _one hundred and seventeen_ countries were trying to accomplish. After the lady in red with the-” He flails his arms around in mimic of Wanda’s powers and Stephen has to bite his tongue to stop from laughing. “ – she hurt a lot of people in Lagos. It may not have been intentional, but twenty-six people died as dozens more injured because she confronted a known terrorist in a fight that she was wholly unprepared for. The families of those twenty-six people had every right looking for justice and answers instead of just ‘Oh, she’s an Avenger, she can do what she wants.’ And, like, seriously! Why was she an Avenger in the first place? She-”

“Wanda Maximoff.” Stephen provides the team.

“Right, her. She was a _willing Hydra agent_! She took part in violent riots in Sokovia, released the Hulk into the city of Johannesburg, and was directly responsible for manipulating Mr. Stark’s fear and need to protect and save everyone into the creation of Ultron which could have destroyed the world! Lagos was the last straw in a long list of straws that made the world realized there needs to be checks and balances for people like the Avengers. The Accords were a starting point for that. Nothing was written in stone, it was still being revised, but the world wanted to know that its Heroes were willing to accept accountability instead of answering to no one. But Mr. Rogers refused to listen to anyone. He was Captain America and always the good guy, protecting the little guy from the big bad government bullies. So, if he said it was wrong and bad then he was right and everyone else was wrong. He just… he wouldn’t listen.”

Perhaps a little simplistic, but Peter wasn’t wrong. The pair stopped off to the side of the path, watching the couples playing chess at the stone boards on the west side of the park. Stephen can see the devastation in Peter’s eyes as the teen sorts through the memories of the last few days. Stephen let him, unwilling to interrupt the boy’s contemplation.

“He didn’t even care.” Peter speaks after another moment. “Tony told him that Lieutenant Barnes had killed five innocent people while running from the authorities in Romania and it didn’t phase him. He was more concerned about his friend than the deaths that friend caused. The deaths, the damage, the numerous injuries, none of it mattered. It was the same with Wanda. He chose to protect them and damn anyone who stood against him. I used to look up to him, you know, and he didn’t care that people died. Not in Johannesburg, or Lagos, or Romania. He just… he didn’t care! He chose one friend over another. One friend that was just trying to do what was right and the other who had killed innocent people and that… that’s just not right.”

“No, it’s not right.” Stephen agrees as they start moving again. “But where Sergeant Barnes is concerned, for Steve Rogers it’s black and white. You’re either with him, or against him. And with everything I’ve learned I doubt that will ever change.”

“He wouldn’t listen.” Peter tells him, his shoe lightly kicking a stone off the path and into the grass. “None of them would. They forced the fight, kept it going, refused to stand down even when they knew they were gong against _one hundred and seventeen_ nations of the world! And now Mr. Stark is recovering from nearly being killed and alone and-”

“He is not alone.” Stephen insists with a low growl in his words. “He has friends who have been beside him for years, true friends that will be there still. And there is me and with what I know there will be others. But most importantly, there is you Peter.”

The pair are quiet as they moved through the park before Peter stops again and turns to face Stephen. “You know, I don’t know what your agenda is here exactly, but I can tell you don’t want to hurt Mr. Stark anymore than I do. So, whatever you plan on doing to do about whatever other you wants you to do, I want in. One hundred percent, all the way.

It takes a moment for Stephen to decipher what Peter just said and when he does, he smiles. “I have no intention of hurting Tony. Nor do I wish to hurt you either, Peter. And as for ‘The Plan’, you’re all in. In fact, you and Tony are vital to what I would like to see happen in the next couple of years. A lot is going to revolve around you both.”

Eyes wide with innocent surprise, Peter gapes at the sorcerer. “Wait, what? Me? I’m not – I mean – Mr. Stark is amazing! He’s a real hero, like, he’s saved me a lot, so I’d know! But I – I’m just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man!”

He says the last four words in such a quiet whisper that Stephen almost doesn’t hear him. But he does and his smile grows as he claps the young man on the shoulder. “And that, my young friend, is exactly what I need you to be.”


End file.
